The Changing of a Changeling
by Edison Kells
Summary: Living with the enemy...


The Changing of a Changeling  
by Edison Kells (9/1998)  
  


- INTRO -

  
I wrote this short story in September 1998, once again for a writing contest. My friend, John Campbell, and I came up with the premise on a drive to catch a Mets' game at Shea Stadium one hot August evening. This was the first time outside of autobiographical material that I ever wrote in first person-- challenging but fun. Final thanks to John's wife, Cindy, and Dennis for proof-reading and help with the details.   
  
********************  
  
A Bajoran man punched in an access code on the door's keypad. He quickly slipped inside the room, and hurried to a bucket-shaped container lying nearby on the floor. He inspected the locking mechanism on the closed container and found it counting downwards from 89.96 clicks. Satisfied, he reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small, clear, cylindrical data rod. He shook his head as he pocketed it again, whispering, "This has not turned out at all the way I planned. Better not risk it." As he exited the room for the corridor, the Bajoran quickly turned, removed the data rod from his pocket, saying, "But perhaps it's time I try to think as you would." He tossed the rod back into the room, where it landed near the container. "I'd venture _you_ would leave this for me." Once in the corridor, he made sure the door closed behind him, and set off towards Docking Bay 3. A few moments later, he had to step aside for Major Kira Nerys as she rushed past him with a look of terrible concern on her face. The Bajoran man continued on his way, allowing a slight smile to crack his somber expression.  
  
**********  
  
I assume, Odo, that you're listening to this with your friends. But since you were the greater inspiration for my intentions tonight, I'll address this communique directly to you. I admire you greatly, Odo, and in saying that, I apologize for any embarrassments and inconveniences I may have caused you. By the time you hear this, I'll be long gone, hopefully not to be found by the Federation, the Cardassians, or especially our own. Funny how situations can turn out much differently than we expect them to. But perhaps I'm being too vague. I'll begin by telling you a bit about myself.  
  
You and I have met before, Odo, back on Earth. I must commend you again for spotting me in my disguise as Admiral Leyton. Unlike then, however, my mission here on Deep Space Nine was a simple surveillance assignment: keep watch, gather information, and report my findings. Even now I'm not sure when it became more complicated than that. Maybe being away from The Link for such an extended period of time is more unhealthy for us Changelings than we thought. Anyway, the following information I'm sure will prove helpful to you. We have numerous ways of smuggling onto Deep Space Nine, and there are always at least two of us lurking about at any given time. Every fifteen days a fresh operative comes aboard and stays for a month, thereby our shifts overlap. This was my third visit to your station--to your home. And I must add, you do manage it quite well.  
  
Your reputation is vast in The Link, but primarily as one who killed another of our own kind. The thought is both abhorrent and amazing to me. I would rather die an agonizing death--no, worse--I'd rather be banished from The Great Link to wander the galaxy as a Solid, than to suffer the memory of having terminated the existence of another Changeling. But you're also known as the Changeling who dwells peacefully with the Solids. Before coming here, I assumed you were an unwilling or ignorant pawn being used by alien races, and I watched you closely to justify these suspicions about you. However, I found that the ignorance was on me, my friend, as I eventually became convinced that you are truly accepted, respected, and even loved amongst these strange creatures we call Solids.  
  
Unlike my first tour of duty here, I found myself looking forward to this particular visit. Perhaps that was fair warning that I should have disqualified myself for this assignment. During my first weeks on the station, I only manifested publicly in the form of inanimate objects, fearing, and yes, loathing the idea of posing as a sentient Solid. But it eventually came to pass that, following a hard day's work of the usual shape-shifting, eavesdropping, evading detection, etc., I began to look forward to evenings on the Promenade. I would take on the form of whatever local alien suited me, and eventually even became comfortable fraternizing with this corporeal rabble. Huh! I thought you had caught me one night as our eyes met, when, looking up from my table where I was seated at Quark's, I saw you peering down at me from the rail above the Promenade. But anyway, these casual, impromptu contacts with the Solids are probably what started me on the road towards my current decision. Oh, have I mentioned to you yet what that decision is? I'm going to attempt to separate from the Great Link!  
  
You see, as I mingled amongst the various characters who gather at Quark's, I realized that many of my preconceptions of Solids were simply--'skewed' is a good word. For example, Quark himself is a fascinating study in solidology. At first, he seemed to fit the bill to a tee: greedy, self-seeking, condescending, exploitative, embodying all the loathsome characteristics we come to expect of Solids. But then one night, as I watched him offering a sympathetic ear to that pitiful beast, Morn (did you know, I've never seen Quark charge him for his drinks?)-- that night I realized what Quark's great virtue was. He provides a place for Solids to link. Now I don't mean to insinuate that this comes anywhere close to the Link we experience back on our homeworld or between each other. But the elements are indisputably there.  
  
Quark's Place is an arena where Solids can congregate, communicate, share, exchange ideas, aspirations, laments, emotions, life energy. These evenings on the Promenade are simply times for individuals to lose and find themselves in a pool of community. After all, I had to wonder why it was that I was continually drawn there. It was a revelation to me to understand that I was returning night after night to seek out the closest thing to the Great Link that the Solids have to offer here on this lonely outpost. Ha, ha-- I can almost see your incredulous expression as I say this. I watched how you treat Quark, Odo. You know, you really should lighten up on him. Sure, even I despise the way he's heavy-handed with his employees, and devious in his business pursuits (if only you knew). But we cannot expect Solids to be perfect any more than we can expect Changelings to be fearless. All this to say, I've become fascinated with the complex layers of unity and diversity that I find amongst them.  
  
So, yes, Quark's Place is definitely where my turning began. But don't let the brevity of this recording give the impression my decision was a sudden or easy one. Obviously, I don't have the luxury of time to give you a more comprehensive account of my journey. Hopefully the highlights I include here will give you sufficient understanding of my 'conversion', and my new found respect for you, Odo. Now back to my mission, and how it changed me.  
  
About two weeks ago, just before my partner's replacement was to arrive, we were camouflaged in your weekly Command Staff meeting. You've probably guessed it already, but there we learned of Bashir and O'Brien's new technology for flushing out Changelings. Try to imagine our panic. Not only did this imply a direct challenge to our covert presence on Deep Space Nine, but worse, it foretold of great setback to the cause of the Dominion-- and probably the death of many a Changeling along the way. This had to be stopped at any cost.  
  
Fortunately for us, Deep Space Nine is full of shadowy places from where we can clandestinely conduct our observations. The broad undersides of the station's tables and consoles serve as good hiding places for us, too-- something you may want to consider, Odo. Anyway, while my partner left the station to warn the others, I spent day and night trying to gather what information I could, with the intention of secretly sabotaging your new weapon. This required that I take much greater risks in my spying than usual, but I was desperate.  
  
My first priority was to gather technical information, so I spent much time watching Bashir and O'Brien in their labs. This was very dangerous, mind you. If they happened to turn that weapon my way-- even now I'd rather not speculate on the outcome. Needless to say, it would not have been good. But I want to relate their one snippet of conversation that would come back to haunt me over and over again in the days to follow. Bashir said, "You know, Miles, even though the Shape-shifters are our ultimate enemy, something inside me still hates that we have to-- torture them to gain the upper hand." And O'Brien replied, "Yeah, I know what you mean. My only solace is knowing that they don't return the sentiment." At the time, I dismissed these words as being mere sentimental pabulum. But O'Brien was right. I was instrumental in the Antwerp bombing incident, which brought you to Earth and allowed us to meet in the first place. By the way, I had no regrets at the time of the bombing.  
  
Days later, while hiding in an overhead ventilation shaft, I was shocked to see you present at one of Bashir's testing sessions, Odo-- as a guinea pig. This is something you may not be aware of yet, but Changelings experience a semblance of the Link even when not physically touching. I watched you take the form of a cat; I saw the doctor activate the weapon; I felt your pain as you cried out when forced to release your form. I nearly lost my own form in sympathetic anguish. Odo, I was amazed that you would subject yourself to such torture. I dreaded what sway these Solids must have held over you that you would endure this. I remember Bashir saying, "Odo, you don't have to do this you know," and you replied, "Doctor, if only one life is saved in this sacrifice of pain, it is worth it. I do have to do this. Carry on," and you resumed the form of the cat. I had to leave at that point, not being sure of my own ability to remain non-reactive, physically or emotionally.  
  
That scene played itself out over and over in my thoughts against the backdrop of a million questions: How can I stop this madness? How can I avenge you? How can I save you? But Bashir's words would interrupt, "Something inside me still hates that we have to-- torture them..." I strove to ignore his words and continued to agonize: How can I reach you, Odo? How can I make you see that Solids are not worth the sacrifices you make? They cannot be trusted! But then O'Brien's words would come, "They don't return the sentiment." I began to feel a confusion and a fear that I'd never known before, Odo, and I was alone in it. I wanted-- no, I needed so badly to join with another Changeling, to regain composure and sobriety. But not having that luxury available to me, I forced myself to face the fear. And as I examined that fear, Changeling fear, I heard it again: "They don't return the sentiment." That's when it dawned on me. We fear Solids, and in self-defense we aim to intimidate, conquer, and obliterate them. Solids fear us, yet in self-defense they lament even having to cause us pain!  
  
It was two days before I could resume my surveillance, during which time I was able to reinstate my convictions that Solids are inherently evil and not to be trusted. But those convictions would soon be shaken again as I listened in on a conversation several mornings ago in the Replimat.  
You began, "Those look like some pretty deep thoughts, Captain."  
Sisko responded, "You know, everything in the book says we should be working towards creating a diplomatic exchange with our enemy. And that's the one thing we haven't come close to achieving in this war with the Dominion."  
Then Worf, with his predictable, small-minded belligerence, added, "A Klingon proverb says, 'Only the respected are truly heard.' We have not yet earned the respect of the Dominion. Perhaps our new Deformation Cannon will gain that respect, and then they will be willing to talk."  
You countered brilliantly. "But Worf, respect at the point of a gun is short-lived; lose the gun, and you lose the respect. Do you think that if the Jem Hadar were able to secure Ketrocel White for themselves they would still respect their Changeling gods the way they do now? I see it as an issue of trust. Something dreadful happened to the Changelings in the past that makes them so distrustful of Solids now that they want to virtually annihilate them all."  
Finally Sisko said, "Perhaps that's the key, Odo, to find out what in their past caused them to become so disaffected with Solids. Maybe if we knew that, we could begin to understand the cause of their fear, and open a dialogue on that level."  
  
I found it ironic that Changelings endeavor to employ fear as our primary weapon against Solids, and here Solids were attempting to understand Changeling fear as an avenue towards peace. Did Sisko ever tell you about the time back on Earth when I came to him in the form of Miles O'Brien? I told him at that meeting that it is fear that would ultimately destroy the Solids. I used to believe that wholeheartedly, and perhaps I still do. But Odo, everything in our psyche screams at us that Solids only ever attempted to earn our trust and respect in order to exploit our trust and respect. And this you probably don't know, though you should, that our history is riddled with Solids trying to control and manipulate us for their own selfish gains. But scream at me though my psyche did, the truth behind your point was so profound, so obvious, I could not ignore it. For us, it is an issue of distrust become obsession. Changelings were indeed victims of paranoid races that determined to wipe us out in order to assuage their own paranoia. But you helped me see that Changelings have turned into the very thing they detest. We who were exploited are now bent on exploiting, as is evident in how we use the Vorta, Jem Hadar, and Cardassians. We who were on the brink of being exterminated are now determined to exterminate others-- ah! You have helped me understand your allegiance to the Solids in a whole new light.  
  
Yesterday, three Changelings arrived on the transport that carried the Federation science team to the station. We were aware of your plans to demonstrate and disseminate the technology for your Disformation Cannon to them, and so we needed to devise and implement a counter-strategy. My comrades intended to destroy Deep Space Nine (and don't think we couldn't do it). But I convinced them that destroying DS9 would not deter manufacture of the weapon, since it was highly probable that Bashir had sent the Cannon's specifications to Starfleet Headquarters already. My alternate plan involved simply re-coding an undetectable, dynamic phase variance on the prototype units. This way, when the weapons went in to production based on these prototypes, the Federation would be left standing with a bunch of impotent wave generators. My plan would at least delay the weapon's deployment, so that by the time our ploy was finally discovered, we could be prepared with a more sufficient defense.  
  
It was a difficult Linking, for one to persuade three, but I prevailed on the notion that maintaining our anonymity was more valuable than raising suspicions with a display of force. So last night we sabotaged the prototype units, and retreated to rest for our departure the next day with the returning Federation science team. I was relieved that my mission was drawing to a close. The ebb and flow of my soul-searching during the past two weeks left me utterly exhausted and in dire need of return to the Great Link.  
  
I hid in your quarters last night (that should give you some food for thought) in order to take care of my last problem Odo-- you. Although I cannot say I was not tempted often, I had always respected your personal privacy. This was my first time in your cabin while you were present. I was surprised when Kira Nerys returned to your quarters with you, but more surprised at the interchange I witnessed between the two of you-- the interchange that finalized my decision to not return to the Link. When Kira asked you how you felt about unleashing a weapon that would virtually destroy your own kind, I was riveted. For the longest time you simply stood frozen, looking off to one side. Then I saw Kira touch you gently. And you wept. I tuned into your anguish, and I inwardly wept with you, Odo, partly because I knew your sorrow was needless, but also because I knew you still had heart for our kind. What a fascinating Changeling you are, my friend. Since this was the last time I'd probably be this close to you, I allowed myself to search and savor your complexity and beauty in that moment. Then Kira cradled you in her arms, and you wept even more. I couldn't stop myself. As she held you, I reached through and fearfully touched her soul, and found there not the condescension and deviousness I expected. Instead, I found sympathy, and compassion, and concern, and -- love. Odo, Solids can love! And this is not the love that Changelings know. It's hard to describe, but I sensed such an incredible exchange of soul: giving and receiving; abandonment and assurance; freedom and commitment. Here was something new outside my experience, something so unusual and so good, I must know it more.  
  
Yes, in that moment I was changed, knowing I could not go back to the Link. Not for a long while, anyway. The Link would overwhelmingly oppose my discoveries, and I alone could not withstand their driving fear and scrutiny. (Listen to my words: they've already become other to me.) But I perceive that the pain of remaining ignorant would be greater than the pain of remaining safe. So I will be leaving the station tomorrow, but not to return to the Link. I have a new, self-appointed mission now: to follow in your footsteps, Odo, and discover the virtue in these Solids.  
  
Before I close this recording, I want you to know I am truly sorry I had to subject you to such humiliation. Odo, you were my last problem. I know the plan is for the weapon to be presented to the science team in the morning, and that Bashir has no intention of using you in a live demonstration. But it is feasible that one of the science team will insist, and that you will consent, and that my sabotage will be exposed. I cannot take that risk. That is why, after Kira left and you retired to your resting trough, I locked you in with a timed release set for twenty-four hours. I will be posing as you in the morning, and will be adamant about not subjecting myself to a live demonstration of the Disformation Cannon. If all goes well, I will then sneak aboard the Federation transport vessel with the departing science team, and be off to fulfill my new mission.  
  
Funny-- never in a million eons would I have thought myself capable of such an audacious enterprise. I was just a simple, Changeling spy! But I guess that should be my first lesson: be prepared for people and situations to turn out differently, sometimes much differently, than expected.  
  
**********  
  
The access door to the conference room was flanked by station security personnel. Captain Sisko, Commander Worf, Doctor Bashir, and Chief Engineer O'Brien sat at the head of the conference table. Constable Odo and Major Kira stood behind them. The members of the Federation science team occupied the remaining seats at the table, and others were standing in the rear of the room. Several prototypes of the Disformation Cannon were arrayed at the head of the table, from small, hand-held, phaser-type weapons, to larger phaser-rifle varieties. Sisko opened the conference, introducing the new weapon to be used in the war against the Dominion. O'Brien followed with a holographic presentation of the technology behind the weapon. Worf then explained each of the various prototypes, and the situations in which they would be useful. Bashir took his turn to comment on Shape-shifter physiology, and how it was incompatible with the emissions of the Disformation Cannon.  
  
Then Bashir reached into his breast pocket, and produced a pen. "This," he said, "is the final working prototype I want to present to you." A quiet murmur rifled through the room. "It was a last minute inspiration," he continued, flashing a knowing smile at O'Brien. "In fact, I whipped it up only an hour ago."  
  
Odo and one of the security guards exchanged a worried glance. The security guard slowly removed his phaser from his belt, and began lifting it towards Bashir. Startling the entire room, Odo yelled, "No!!!", as he fired his own phaser at the guard. The wounded guard gaped at Odo with wide-eyed horror and confusion. Those in the room who had not sought cover watched in amazement as the security guard buckled in pain, slowly losing his humanoid form, melting into a gelatinous puddle on the floor. "A Shape-shifter!", was the hushed cry that momentarily filled the room.  
  
Kira looked up from the formless corpse with a question on her brow. "Odo?" But as she scanned the room, she could not locate him. "Where is Odo?," Kira asked with deep concern on her face. She hastily turned and exited from the room.   
  

The End



End file.
